


Five Times Sebastian Smythe Tried To Be Subtle (He Really Is Not)

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Nerd Sebastian Smythe, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: Anonymous asked :Prompt: Sebastian finds an unusual way to tell Blaine that he loves himI hope this matches what you were looking for ;)





	

5.

They say action speaks louder than words, don’t they.

So at first, Sebastian tries to express how he feels--well, more like that he does feel something, for starters--through gestures.

His favorite one is to get Blaine his afternoon coffee because he _knows_ his friend.

He knows how Blaine takes his coffee, that there is a difference between the morning one--straight up medium drip with no milk and half a ton of sugar to get his brain to rise from the dead--and the afternoon one--more whimsical, if such a term can be applied for coffee.

According to Blaine Anderson, of course whimsical is a word that applies, because Blaine Anderson lives with unicorns and magical squirrels.

Sebastian digresses.

That’s what standing in line at 4.35pm does to him--his mind wanders around the literal magic that is his best friend/crush.

Back to Blaine’s afternoon drink: he likes it sweet, and flavored, but not always with the same thing. After a while, though, Sebastian has found a pattern in Blaine’s choices.

Blaine usually picks classic flavors--caramel, chocolate, vanilla--when the morning has been an easy one, without too much hassle. If the day has not been kind, he lets himself experiment with more unusual flavors, like hazelnut, or mint, or pumpkin when it’s available.

Yeah, Sebastian has way too much time on his hands--or he’s way too obsessed with Blaine Anderson.

Shut up.

“Here you go, tiger,” Sebastian says as he puts the paper cup in Blaine’s hand.

“Sebastian!” Blaine exclaims with a beaming smile before sniffing the cup. “You always know what to get me.”

And before Sebastian can answer or smirk or do something, “You’re such a good friend, Seb.”

Fuck it.

 

4.

When the coffee thing isn’t enough to make Blaine understand that Sebastian … likes him (yeah, let’s go with like, it’s safer), Sebastian tries something else.

He tries massage.

After a Warbler rehearsal, Blaine rolls his shoulders and groans--and good God that sound does things to Sebastian that are so far away from PG there is no more rating for it--and Sebastian does the one thing he can think of.

“Want some help with that?”

Blaine looks over his shoulder just as he started massaging it, and he raises one eyebrow. “Hm?”

Sebastian puts his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and squeezes. “Let me take care of those stiff shoulders,” he offers, internally--or maybe not so internally--smirking at the sudden flush appearing on the back of Blaine’s neck at his accentuation of the “stiff”.

That being said, it’s Sebastian’s turn to feel hot around the collar when Blaine lets out a truly pornographic groan when Sebastian presses the pad of his fingers onto particularly stubborn knots.

“Jesus, Seb,” Blaine lets out in another groan, and it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine the same word, the same tone, in a very different setting.

So easy.

 _Too_ easy maybe.

It doesn’t matter what Sebastian wants--not in this instance, not with Blaine; Sebastian _cares_ too much for the shorter Warbler to use his old techniques.

Besides, he is not that confident that they would work on Blaine.

“Feels good?” He asks instead of pressing his lips to the neck faciing him.

Blaine turns his face just a little to look at him sideways, and fuck it all to the seven rings of hell, it would be so easy to kiss him.

“It does,” Blaine replies, rolling his shoulders under Sebastian’s fingers.

“Oh, massages?” Jeff exclaims before Sebastian can make sense of the soft raspiness in Blaine’s voice. “Great idea!”

Fuck _it_.

 

3.

Either Blaine is completely immune to Sebastian’s charms, or he is just _that_ innocent and the darker parts of Sebastian’s mind and heart want to conquer him in both cases.

That being said, Sebastian wants to win Blaine over, to show him how much he l--

How much he _likes_ him.

Short of saying it bluntly--and Smythes do not confess their feelings like some lame plebeians--Sebastian must find another way to make Blaine understand it.

There has to be a limit to one’s obliviousness.

Fine, so maybe the coffees and the massages were too subtle. Sebastian is nothing if not resourceful, and his next step is probably the best idea ever.

Flowers and arrows.

Flowers, because they are romantic, or so Sebastian heard, and arrows because of Saint Sebastian.

(He totally blames their Renaissance teacher on that one imagery.)

Oh, Sebastian doesn’t send Blaine the archery’s arrows. He looks for and finds artful ones, blunt ones that won’t hurt Blaine and give to his bouquets a subtle emo vibe that suits Sebastian and his woes perfectly.

Except that it completely backfires.

Blaine comes into class after two weeks of regular, anonymous packages, a frown etched on his forehead.

“What’s wrong tiger?” Sebastian whispers as soon as Blaine sits down at the desk next to his own.

“I have received some … gifts, recently,” Blaine whispers back, pulling out his notebook and frowning at it even more intensely.

“That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

“I find it pretty creepy,” Blaine retorts and Sebastian can almost physically feel the color draining from his face. “I mean, who sends arrows to someone unless it’s a threat?”

Sebastian opens and closes his mouth in a very uncharacteristic fit of speechlessness.

“Maybe I should talk about it to the Dean,” Blaine continues sotto voce as the teacher comes in. “It is close to bullying, don’t you th--”

“No!” Sebastian exclaims, colors returning vividly to his face when a couple of students turn their heads to look at him. “It’s probably nothing so extreme as a threat, leave it be,” he adds, berating himself internally.

_Fuck. It._

 

2.

When that plan fails miserably, Sebastian tries a more traditional, albeit disgustingly romantic, approach.

If Blaine doesn’t understand that Sebastian really, _really_ , likes him, then Sebastian has to make _him_ see that he likes Sebastian.

Because of course Blaine likes him.

Right?

 _Right_?!

No, right, there is little to no room for doubt in the way Blaine’s eyes sometimes linger over him.

And Sebastian will take lust, if not the big L word, over indifference any given time of any given day--especially when it comes to Mr. Anderson.

Hence, Sebastian going all out.

Tighter pants, check.

Increased swagger, check.

Dropping pens left and right right on cue to Blaine coming up to him, check, check and check.

Sebastian even starts wearing chapstick (because no matter how much Trent inquires, it is _not_ a lipgloss. Fuck you Trent), for fuck’s sake.

“Did you find a new target?” Blaine asks rather innocently after picking up Sebastian’s pen himself--too much strength in his throw, and Sebastian did not need more footage for his spank bank, Christ almighty.

“Uh?”

Brilliant, really, well played Smythe.

“We can go to Scandals, if you want?”

“Whatever for ?”

Blaine looks confused for a moment, before smiling at Sebastian and nudging him. “You seem to be in a seductive mood, I’m just saying that you should put it to good use--in a proper setting.”

 _I’ll show you how I put_ you _to good use in a proper setting …_

“Nah, I’m good. Just wanted to see if I still got it.”

“I’m pretty sure you do.”

Sebastian finds its opening. “Interested?”

Blaine gives him a long, searching look--far too intense for Sebastian’s liking.

“Hm.”

And he leaves it at that, the little minx.

_Fuck me._

 

1.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and Sebastian is getting pretty desperate here.

So he does the one thing that is sure to show Blaine Anderson, grand romantic extraordinaire, that Sebastian has actual, deep feelings for him, and that the least he could do is to tell him, once and for all, if he reciprocates them, and if he does, to do something about it, dammit.

He serenades him.

Around midnight, Sebastian takes his ukulele and goes to sing under Blaine’s window.

Well, at least an estimation of where he thinks Blaine’s window is.

Sebastian picks a French song, because it’s supposedly the most romantic language in the world (he has spend enough time in Paris to know that French can be as unromantic as possible, but he _is_ desperate, maybe he already mentioned that), and starts playing.

“ _Moi je n’étais rien et voilà qu’aujourd’hui_

_Je suis le gardien du sommeil de ses nuits_

_Je l’aime à mourir …_ ”

 _I’m really gonna die if this doesn’t work, this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done to get a man and that’s considering the time I tried smoking to impress a guy_ , he thinks while plucking the string of the instrument, but even that thought doesn’t deter Sebastian from his plan.

Except that Blaine opens the window, but it’s not with love in his eyes.

Even from a distance, it looks more like daggers.

“Sebastian, if you want to suggest a song for the competition, can’t it wait, you know, for daylight?!”

Sebastian freezes, and not only because that particular tone in Blaine’s voice is doing things to his body.

“Oops?”

“Yeah, oops. Go to sleep, Seb.”

Blaine slams the window shut, and Sebastian wants to smack himself over the head with the ukulele.

Fuuuuck.

 

+1

Sebastian does not care that he’s not being subtle about his low morale.

Okay, so maybe sighing through the whole rehearsal and keeping his head in the crook of his crossed arms for the rest of the day is beyond being obvious, but he’s feeling dejected, okay.

When a familiar raspberry scent gets closer, and a familiar hand rubs circles on his back, Sebastian buries his head even deeper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Humph.”

“Come on,” Blaine cajoles, scooting closer to Sebastian and wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “You’ve been weird for the past couple of weeks, and now you’re down right depressing. Won’t you tell _me_ what’s going on?”

Sebastian turns his head, still resting it on his arms, to look at Blaine.

His friend--his best friend, really--looks concerned. There is a small frown on his face, and his mouth is twisted into an unhappy shape.

And Sebastian snaps.

“I love you,” Sebastian whispers with a sigh.

“Aww,” Blaine lets out, squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder, “I love you too.”

“No,” Sebastian replies, straightening up and turning in his seat to face Blaine. “I don’t love you as my best friend--I … _love_ you.”

“You …,” Blaine starts, eyes widening with each passing, unbearable second. “Oh.”

 _Thought so_.

Sebastian shrugs Blaine’s hand off his arm. “Don’t worry,” he says, trying to gather all that infamous Smythe’s aloofness, “this shall pass.”

“No.”

It’s his turn to frown at Blaine. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Blaine swiftly moves in, pulling Sebastian by the lapels of his blazer. “I have waited too long for you to pull your head out of your ass--”

“Me? You’re the one who didn’t catch on anything I tried!”

“--to let you think that you can just swipe it all under the rug now that you manned up and said it clearly!”

“Excuse y--What do you mean, waited too l- _hm_!”

Whatever offended remark was on Sebastian’s lips flies out the window the moment Blaine presses his against them.

Not a bad way to be rendered speechless, as far as Sebastian is concerned.


End file.
